


With You, I Weather the Storm

by arcadenemesis



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Happy Birthday Shiro (Voltron), Introspective Keith (Voltron), M/M, Romantic Fluff, Sheith Just Living Their Happy Ending Together, True Love, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22953331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcadenemesis/pseuds/arcadenemesis
Summary: He's almost a tempest himself, Keith thinks, with snow in his lashes and static in his skin. But the soft curve of his lips is winter sun breaking through the clouds, warming him through. Keith loves the crinkles in the corners of his stormy eyes when he laughs, and the thunder that rolls through his chest with such a sweet sound.A storm on the last day of February gives Keith time to reflect on the journey that delivered him to this moment.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 50
Collections: Beginnings: a Domestic Sheith Zine Contributor Works





	With You, I Weather the Storm

Keith has always been forged with fire. Born and raised under the searing sun of the Sonoran, with desert dust in his lungs. In retrospect, it had never really been any surprise that he had been the first to pilot Red. Passion and determination had always roared like an inferno in his veins, then and now.

He was never made for winter.

That’s not to say he hates the rain. There’s a beauty in soft sun showers, cooling down the sweltering plains, gently reviving the desert. But when it comes down like this, hard and frigid and unending, Keith always finds himself restless. Never more so than when it ruins his plans. He's never been one to shy away from the reckless, but riding in poor visibility with dangerous gusts that toy lazily with control and trajectory just seems foolish. He _could_ do it, he knows, but he shouldn't. There's an old silvered scar on the back of his calf that reminds him as much. All the risks he has ever taken have been with a degree of calculation, and this, as much as he is loathe to admit, is one hardly necessary in the name of alleviating his boredom. 

It means his productivity on the shack comes to a standstill too. The shingles that need repair and downpipe that should have been replaced long ago will have to wait. It's hardly clever to risk life and limb on a slippery ladder while the heavens unleash their fury. And with nothing but plains around for miles, it would be just his luck that lightning would strike him down too. After everything, it would be a stupid way to die. As if it agrees, the sky flashes outside the kitchen window and he frowns as rolling thunder chases it. He's definitely going to regret not finishing that maintenance by the time this all calms down.

A hand snakes around his waist and chilled human fingers slip under the hem of his shirt to slide across his skin and tear him away from his thoughts. He hisses his protest, only to receive a sleepy, unapologetic chuckle by his ear.

“Warm,” Shiro hums happily, pressing his face into the side of his neck. The tip of his nose is just as frozen and Keith squirms and curses quietly in response. 

“I'm allowed to today,” he grins, laughing when Keith huffs. “Besides, you disappeared so early this morning.”

Perhaps it's a little overdramatic, but Keith heaves a sigh, painted with suffering. 

“I wanted to take the bikes out today. I had a whole plan set up and then…” He gestures to the weather outside.

“So you decided to make cocoa instead?”

Keith frowns down into the saucepan he's supposed to be watching.

“I would have been fine with just hot water.”

And Shiro laughs when Keith twists in his arms to level him with a look of pure disdain. It's not the same and he knows it. Winter is already miserable enough without giving cocoa the common courtesy of condensed milk and a stovetop. Shiro squeezes him gently once before releasing him so he can take the saucepan off the heat to divide it between two old, chipped mugs. Hands stay heavy on his hips though, and Shiro shuffles gracelessly with him as he moves until Keith hands him his drink. He warms his flesh fingers around the mug, and Keith stares absently as he brings it to his lips.

“We could take Black,” Keith muses. “Go off-world. Somewhere warm. And dry. Somewhere where we won't drown if we take two steps outside. Jarre, maybe. Or—”

He's captured unexpectedly in a kiss that tastes of sweet chocolate and cinnamon. 

“I like this weather,” Shiro counters, pressing his forehead to Keith's. “It doesn't rain out here too often. We should enjoy it.”

Keith wants to argue that there's nothing enjoyable about being cooped up inside like a caged bird, but he bites his tongue. Because while Shiro might be a military man, ingrained with routine and discipline, the lousy weather always seems to release some unseen tension in him. Almost as if he has a free pass to sleep a little longer, lounge a little more, let himself indulge in simpler pleasures.

Keith may be made for summer, but he's learning to love the winters with Shiro.

There’s a hopefulness in those gunmetal eyes as he watches him, and Keith can't help but smile. “What do you want to do?”

“I just want to be with you.”

“Dork.”

“Aaand maybe we could finish watching that show Matt recommended.”

Keith forces himself not to groan. Not today. He can't understand why Shiro would want to watch some terrible, campy, _inaccurate_ space soap opera when he's spent years travelling to planets unknown, encountering actual aliens and fighting in real space wars… but if Shiro wants, today (every day, if he's honest with himself), Shiro gets.

Seeing him grin when Keith rolls his eyes and huffs a defeated “ _fine”_ is all the strength he needs to power him through the next hour of overacting and dated special effects. He goes easily when Shiro takes their mugs and drags him over to the worn couch in front of his old box of a television. He crouches before it for a moment to fiddle with the settings while Keith sits, then wastes no time rushing back to drape himself over him when the opening theme plays. Keith takes the cue and swings his legs up onto the seat, heart skipping when Shiro settles over him, cheek pressed to his ribs and feet hanging ridiculously over the end of the opposite armrest. All his restless energy stills and dissipates under the comforting weight, and he raises his arms to wrap them loosely around Shiro’s shoulders. He tries to focus as the ridiculous characters in their ridiculous uniforms appear on the screen, but then he hears words like _warp drive_ and _transporters_ and yep, he is definitely checking out of this nonsense. 

Absently, he trails his fingertips up and down Shiro’s spine, turning his attention to the sound of the howling wind and the relentless rain pounding on the roof above them. Hopefully they won't lose power; Keith doesn't have a lot of faith in the old generator he left behind before they fled Earth in the head of the Blue Lion. There is an upside though, he supposes. Heavy rain this late in the season will breathe life into the desert during the drier months until the monsoons arrive. Without winter, there would be no bloom of wildflowers, no eruption of colour in the valleys, no new creatures and critters emerging from the rejuvenated earth.

Perhaps winter also means slowing down for a moment and taking time to rest and recover along with the desert. They haven't had much of that over the last few years. Even with the war long behind them, Keith realises maybe he has never taken a moment to stop and come to terms with the chaos that had been their time as Defenders of the Universe. He threads his fingers through bed-mussed hair, not really paying attention to the screen. To say the two of them have been through a lot would be the galaxy’s greatest understatement. Keith has never taken a moment to stop, but he stops now, taking in the man before him. 

He's almost a tempest himself, Keith thinks, with snow in his lashes and static in his skin. Certainly, the way he swept into Keith’s life felt far more like a hurricane than a gentle breeze. But the soft curve of his lips is winter sun breaking through the clouds, warming him through. Keith loves the crinkles in the corners of his stormy eyes when he laughs, and the thunder that rolls through his chest with such a sweet sound. It's even in the way he runs a little cooler, particularly in his fingers and toes, and the way he greedily seeks out Keith’s body heat. Far too often in colder nights, Keith finds himself under attack by frozen feet worming between his legs, pressed icy and shameless to his calves. Half-hearted protests are only ever met with guilty grins and sleepy nuzzles. Keith always surrenders to him.

It's really a miracle they're here. Between emperors and enemies and evil experiments, Keith had unconsciously accepted the fact he would never see the rain again. That never again would he walk on the cool desert sand with rich, earthy petrichor in the air, or hear the clap of thunder or feel electricity crackle above him. It's a belated realisation, a sad one, and it makes him hold a little tighter to the man in his arms.

He certainly didn't think he would have this. This patient, whole love from someone who had always been a friend from that very first gesture of trust and kindness, but who had morphed into something far more profound along the way. Being pulled apart and clawing their way back to one another again and again and again had strengthened the bond between them until they could no longer call it ordinary. Keith had been the first to put his heart on the line to say _I love you_ , but when Shiro finally found his voice, the words had come back to him tenfold in earnest. 

Still, toppling warlords and witches hasn’t been an infinite solution to galactic peace. They still have their inescapable duties. And between Atlas and the Blades, moments for just them are as rare as snow in the Sonoran. Which was why when he woke to the patter of rain on the rooftop and the cry of the wind, Keith had been crushed. But maybe… maybe this is just as good.

Shiro snorts at something on the screen, loud and undignified, and it brings Keith’s thoughts back. A pavlovian smile splits across his face at the sound. He tries to hide it in silver hair, but Shiro looks up and catches him as the credits roll. Keith can feel his cheeks heating when he smiles back.

“Hey, the rain has eased up out there,” Shiro says, voice edged with something languid and soporific. “Maybe it's not too late for that bike ride?”

Keith glances up to the window, realising only now that he’s right, but then he tightens his arms around him again. “Mm… maybe a little later, just to be sure,” he says, trying to sound reluctant. “We have time.”

Shiro laughs, like he knows, but he doesn't call him out on it. Keith’s pride breathes a silent sigh of relief.

Even the harshest winter would always give way to spring. His life has been a testament to that. Maybe he would never be able to plan out these quiet days of their lives, but in the grand scheme of it all, after everything they have been through, perhaps that doesn't matter. For now, he would enjoy the last few moments of the season, made more special by the one he would share every winter with from now on. When Shiro smiles, Keith can't help but return it, capture it in a sweet and loving kiss, with words spoken soft against his lips.

“Happy birthday, Shiro.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy leap year day guys! Shiro is officially 7 years old now, yay! 🥳
> 
> I wrote this for the Beginnings Zine almost 18 months ago. I've been hanging onto it a while now and I'm so happy to get to post it for you all. If you have a copy of the zine, you'll notice this version is ever so slightly different since we get to celebrate on Shiro's _actual_ birthday this year. 
> 
> Funnily enough, even though it is Summer here in my part of the world, we had a little rain this morning before it cleared to a beautiful day. I'd like to think that Shiro eventually saw blue skies with Keith today too. 
> 
> Feel free to hit me up at [Twitter](https://twitter.com/copilotsheith)!


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